


How To Build A Girl

by emoboyband



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, High School, Pining, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 13:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emoboyband/pseuds/emoboyband
Summary: High school is a nightmare, objectively. It's even more of a nightmare when you're forced to constantly lie to everybody about who you are. Luckily, Mikey has a strong defense system built against anyone but her best friend and her brother finding out the truth. And then she meets a boy who makes her want to tear down every wall she's built.Loosely based on the novel Luna by Julie Ann Peters.





	How To Build A Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with internalized transphobia and gender dysphoria. I'm not a trans woman and I tried to inform myself as best as I can, but I apologize if my portrayal of what it's like is inaccurate or in any way harmful. Mikey perceives her gender in an unhealthy way at the beginning of the fic, but this changes as the fic goes on and she realizes that she was wrong.

Gerard was sitting on his bed and waiting for her to come in, like he did every night. 

As he waited, he scrolled through his Instagram feed on his phone, because no matter how much he loved seeing his sister come alive, it took a really fucking long time to arrange some nights. Gerard didn't mind the waiting, but he worried for her. She was always exhausted when she emerged from her room the next morning as Michael. 

When she finally did meet Gerard in his room, she tiptoed in, her pointed toes nearly silent, and closed the door slowly. Gerard put down his phone and looked at his sister. He couldn't help but smile at how much more _right_ she looked like this. She was wearing her fishnet stockings with a red pleated skirt and a Misfits shirt that she wore when she was Michael, too. She liked to express this part of her with ultra-femininity sometimes, but her attachment to the bands she liked didn't discriminate on which gender she was presenting as at the moment. 

Aside from that, she was wearing a smokey eye that complimented the outfit nicely and red lipstick that matched the skirt. Her facial structure was different, too, her jawline more muted and her cheekbones highlighted. It had taken her a long time for her makeup to get as far as it had, but nowadays she was well aware of how to use it to hide the parts that made her dysphoric and show off the parts that she liked. 

She also had boobs, Gerard noticed. It was probably not really cool to remark upon your sister's boobs, but the situation was slightly different when your sister was usually your brother but became your (flat-chested) sister every night for an hour or so.

She must have noticed his look of confusion, because when she sat down on the bed next to her brother, she started explaining.

“It's really just a stuffed bra, you don't have to worry. I didn't, like, grow them while you weren’t looking,” she joked, reaching a hand up to touch her left breast. Their small size complimented her skinny figure well. “Lindsey only got me an A cup, because she said that anything bigger would look fake,” she sighed. “It’s a bit weird-looking, I know. I thought I should go bigger. Lindsey said anything bigger would be ridiculous and she’s totally right. Maybe once I get on hormones, it’ll look more natural, ‘cause I'll look more ‘womanly’. Whatever that means.”

“They look fine to me,” Gerard said, and really, it felt like such a fucked-up compliment, but he knew she had put a lot of thought into it, and that deserved recognition.

“Yeah, but you're gay. And also my brother. You don't spend much time thinking about tits anyway,” she teased.

“Yeah, that's probably true,” he agreed. “Although, if I wasn't gay, I feel like it would be a lot more weird to tell my sister that her boobs look good.”

Mikey shrugged. “I think me not being biologically a girl makes things different. You know, I get to choose these things, how big my boobs should be or even, like, what kind of girl I am. It's like I'm building a girl from the ground up,” she said. “Cis girls don't get to think about that.”

“Well, sometimes they do,” Gerard pointed out. “Breast augmentation or reduction and whatnot. Also, everyone experiences some kind of change in identity as you grow up, right? But I get what you mean.”

Mikey nodded. “I guess. But most girls - cis girls, I mean - are just stuck with what they've got, you know? Not that I wouldn't trade anything to have the luxury of picking out the things I don't like about my boobs. Whenever Lindsey says that her eyes are too wide or her thighs are too big or something, I have to remind her that, like, hey, you have it easy, imagine having a dick,” she said, waving her hands as she spoke like she always did when she was in this mood, much more energetic and full of life. The person she was in the morning was nothing like this girl Gerard only knew at night. Gerard wished he could always see her like this.

“Yeah, I think you've got her beat on that one,” he agreed. 

-

Michael was sitting with Frank and Ray at lunch the next day, picking at his gross, overcooked cafeteria vegetables. He knew he would throw them out at the end of lunch, but for now he was trying to see how many times he could stab a piece of carrot with a fork before it broke, while listening to Frank talk about the hot girl of the week who was miles out of his league anyways.

Frank and Ray were far from being his favourite people in the world, but he had forced himself to befriend them based on the fact that they had the same lunch period as him and they had a vaguely similar taste in music. Frank was a cocky little vegetarian punk, which would have been fine with Mikey (Gerard had been pretty much the same when he was in high school) if he weren't so rude, and not in the endearing, didn’t-excuse-himself-after-burping way, he was just an intolerable asshole. He called things he didn't like ‘gay’, he tripped girls in the hallway, and didn’t know how to handle himself without starting a fight.

Ray was better, though not by much. He carried himself with the same asshole-ish energy as the jocks did, but he didn’t play any sports. He publicly humiliated anyone who he didn’t like, and he thought it was funny to make people as uncomfortable as he possibly could with his jokes. 

So why did Michael hang out with these complete and total assholes? Well, for starters, it was better than eating lunch alone, where he would certainly become one of the people they talked shit about during lunch. Eating with them also guaranteed himself some pretty serious protection, since Frank and Ray were pretty much at the top of the high school food chain. Not that they were popular, but nobody wanted to fuck with them if they could avoid it. They didn’t exactly fight fair.

Another upside of hanging out with them was that it forced him back in the closet. They kept him hyper-aware that being out at school would not be a safe decision. If people at school (aside from Lindsey) knew his secret, it would not go over well. Some people would be supportive, but even more people would not be, including Frank and Ray, who would seriously fuck him up. And then he would probably have to tell his parents why he was coming home with black eyes and split lips, and show them the women’s clothing he was hiding in his bedroom, and then he would undoubtedly get kicked out, and sure, maybe then he would be able to be Mikey The Girl all the time, but he would have to pay rent and get a job, probably, and finding one while presenting as a trans woman would be nearly impossible.

So he put up with Frank and Ray’s assholery. It was only for two more years, then She would go to college and live the way She wanted. And plus, he was already allowed to live as her, as Mikey, for a couple of hours a day, so it wasn't like he was suffocating her. She was allowed to come out at night, and for now, that was enough. Or, at least, that’s what he kept telling himself every time Frank or Ray made one of their stupid comments.

-

He approached Lindsey during her free period after telling his teacher he needed to use the bathroom. Instead of turning left for the boys’ bathroom, however, he turned right, for the cafeteria, where Lindsey could usually be found gleefully chatting with her girl friends or angrily ignoring them by playing a game on her phone and glaring at them every once in a while. High school girl friendships were so confusing to Michael, but some part of him wanted to be a part of one so fiercely. For now, though, he had Lindsey, and having her as a friend relieved some of that tension. 

Lindsey looked up when she heard his footsteps. “Mikey!” She smiled. He waved at her once and sat down, wanting to tell Lindsey off for using _her_ name and not _his_ , but it felt so good to be called it in public, and Mikey wasn’t an uncommon thing for boys to be called. He had chosen it partially with that specific purpose in mind. 

But forcing himself to be male in school wasn't for other people - at least, not the extremes he went to in order to keep himself from thinking of himself as a girl. It was for himself, to guarantee his own safety.

Still, he wasn't going to correct her. He liked it, and she meant well.

“How was the bra? Did you take pictures?” She asked once he was close enough to speak as quietly as she needed to in order to not be heard.

“Um,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear. He had gotten used to talking about this stuff with her, but not in public, with the possibility that somebody could hear. “It fit well. You were right about not getting a… bigger size. But it took ages to figure out, Jesus, how do you do that every day?”

Lindsey shrugged. “You get used to it eventually. Maybe I should get you one that closes in the front,” she mused. “That would probably be easier, wouldn't it?”

“How would that even work?” Michael asked, imagining the impossible hook arrangement on the back of the one Lindsey had given her, only in between the two cups instead of at the back of the bra.

“It, like, clips in between the cups. Kinda like this.” She demonstrated with her hands, making the right one slide into the left one at a ninety degree angle and then turning them so they were parallel. Michael furrowed his eyebrows, only half understanding. “Whatever, it'll make sense when you see one.”

“Yeah, probably. Anything would be better than that demon hook contraption,” he said, wincing at the thought of how frustrating that thing was. Whatever, he would try again tonight. “Next time I have enough money, I'll let you know. But get something more casual, okay?” The one Lindsey bought was lacy at the edges of the cups, which he really liked the look of, but it couldn't be worn with a white shirt or anything that was skintight, and once he got the whole ‘boob’ thing down, he'd really like to show them off. It felt almost like a rite of passage in transition, to be that confident with yourself.

“Sure thing,” she agreed. “But you never answered me: did you take pictures? I need to know how it looked.”

“Oh, yeah, right here…” he took out his phone to show her the quick selfie she had snapped in her full-length mirror on her way to Gerard’s room. Once he found it, he turned the screen towards her, and she took the phone right out of his hands.

“Oh my god, girl, you have got to up your selfie game. You're doing the spider hand thing, I'm going to gag. And what is that face you’re making? You look like you’ve seen the gates of Hell,” she critiqued, smiling to herself and zooming in on her face.

Michael laughed. “I just took it really quick on my way out, I wasn't going to show it to anybody else but you. Really, I should delete it now before anyone else sees it.”

“Yeah, but your outfit is so cute! Look at you go! I’m so proud of you,” Lindsey said honestly.

“Thanks, I guess,” Michael said. “But really, do they look… natural? Gerard said they did, but he seemed a little awkward.”

“Oh honey, never take fashion advice from your brother, he knows nothing,” Lindsey rolled her eyes. Gerard and her had been friends before Gerard graduated, and they still kept in contact - though they rarely hung out without Michael. “But yes, they look great on you. They totally have the potential to give you the hourglass figure I know you've been aiming for.” Michael blushed at that.

“Thanks, Linds. Listen, I gotta get back to class, but can I Skype you when I get home? I'll be alone and I need to… I need to not be me,” he told her. She understood immediately and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, sure thing. But tell your brother to answer my fucking text,” she called out to him as he got up and left. He called back at her to promise he would let Gerard know.

-

When Michael got home, he immediately raced to his room and flicked off the lights, dropping his backpack on the floor. He undressed as quickly as he could: he couldn't wait to finally dress as Her. The twenty or so hours since She had last come out had felt like two hundred. 

Tonight was a treat: his parents were going to be out all night, which meant that she had the entire night to be herself. Gerard’s class ended before dinner, but he certainly wouldn't mind if he came home to his sister instead of his brother.

She took off her shirt first. She would probably put the same one right back on after putting on her bra since it was one of her favourites and she had actually found it in the women's section before she realized she was actually a woman, but she needed the bra first. She took it out from under the pillow and held it up by the straps, making sure it wasn't tangled, and carefully put her arms through the loops. She could feel her heart beating in her chest as she reached behind herself to clamp it together. This time, it took about half the time it originally had, which surprised her when she finally got it. She took some tissues from a box by her bed, bunched them up, and stuck them in between where he real chest ended and the cup began. 

She spotted herself in the mirror: she looked stupid, but as she turned to the side and ran her fingers down her figure, she felt different. Confident. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She fetched her shirt from the floor and threw it on. It was a little weird putting it on, since when she raised her arms, her bra would move along with them. She checked herself in the mirror again. The shirt looked even better with boobs in it, that was for sure. It looked natural. It worked.

She traded her skinny jeans for some high-waisted shorts. Lindsey had bought them for herself originally, but they suited Mikey so much better that she eventually just gave them to her.

She looked at herself again. She felt better, but she still had to do her makeup. That could wait for later, though. Now, she needed to call Lindsey.

She found her laptop amongst the other shit all over her desk and turned it on. Once she was logged in, she opened Skype and called “Linds”. The familiar sound of the Skype pickup tone rang, though not for long. Lindsey answered quickly, she knew how anxious Mikey got while she was alone and dressed like this. 

“Hey!” the Lindsey on her screen greeted her, smiling. She was sitting in her own bedroom, lounging on her bed.

“Hi,” Mikey replied casually. “I still have to do my makeup, okay? So don't laugh at my gross face,” she told her as she got out her makeup from its hiding spot, in her underwear drawer, buried beneath about seven hundred pairs of socks she hadn't worn in years because they were too small.

“Aww, but babe, you look perfect with no makeup,” Lindsey said in a fake macho voice. Mikey glared at her.

“Thanks, Ray Toro,” she said, making Lindsey double over in laughter. Mikey even smiled a little at her own joke while she rubbed primer all over her face.

“That shirt is looking so good,” Lindsey commented when she saw how it fit Mikey with her bra on. “Weren't you wearing that today?”

Mikey shrugged. “Yeah, but it's really a women's shirt. And plus, my style when I have to be a dude isn't all that different from when I'm a girl. Just, you know, less skirts and more repression,” she said flatly as she moved onto concealer.

“You know, I could help you out with your boy stuff, too. God knows he needs a better wardrobe, too.”

“No, it’s fine. I can barely scrape together enough for my girl stuff, if I had to be as picky with my boy stuff, I’d probably go bankrupt or something. Besides, it's not as if I'll be dressing like him for long after I graduate,” she said.

“I still think you at least deserve to like what you wear when you have to be a guy,” Lindsey pointed out. 

“But I do like what I wear,” Mikey groaned in between movements of her brush. She and Lindsey had had this conversation what must have been at least a hundred times. “You’re the only one who has any problem with it.” Although she knew she meant well, sometimes Lindsey needed to be told to back off. 

“Alright, fine,” Lindsey said, putting up her arms in surrender. 

Michael had his own way of budgeting the allowance he got every week: five out of the ten dollars would go towards girl stuff he would buy with Lindsey - makeup, clothes, boots, and now, apparently, underwear. Though, he was far too embarrassed to even go into the women's underwear department at Walmart, much less Victoria’s Secret, but Lindsey knew Mikey’s style well enough that she trusted her judgement. The other five dollars would be spent on whatever Michael needed - food, gas for the car, a new video game, concert tickets, anything else.

Lindsey had practically taken Michael under her wing when he started high school, since he was Gerard’s brother. Gerard honestly didn't care that Lindsey was ditching him to hang out with his younger brother since if she wasn't down to hang out with Michael, he would probably ditch her too. Lindsey was a senior, so she was in between Mikey and Gerard. And when Mikey came out to her last year, she had been nothing but supportive - maybe even more than that, since she kind of felt like she was suffocating by hanging out with only boys all the time. 

Gerard had been out as gay since his freshman year, although he only told Michael and eventually Lindsey. Then, soon after Gerard came out to her, Lindsey discovered she was bisexual and had her first girlfriend (which lasted all of two weeks. They were in ninth grade, okay?).

Now, Lindsey was Mikey’s source for all things girl-related as well as her best friend. While Gerard was definitely supportive, his knowledge of girl things was severely lacking. Plus, he wasn't any more capable of shopping for girl clothes than Michael. When Michael shopped with Lindsey, he could at least act like he was just being dragged along by his girlfriend. People would probably not think it nearly as unremarkable if two brothers were looking through the women’s underwear together.

“So, what's new with you?” Mikey asked. She was starting her intensive process of contour and highlight. One day, she wouldn’t have to take so much time to get her face shaped the way she wanted it. One day, she could wake up and immediately like what she looked like. But for now, the only way to achieve that was through pigmented powders she had to put on her face every day.

“Pretty much the same. Mr. Falconi assigned us a thousand word essay due by the end of the month and I'm pissed about that, but I'll get it done.” Lindsey was never one to let her grades slip, no matter how much she hated school. “You?”

“Owning a bra is the most interesting thing going on in my life right now,” she laughed as she blended out the contour. Pleased with her face makeup, she moved on to her eyes. She decided an orange-pink blend would go well with what she was wearing.

“That's fine. You know, there's nothing wrong with being excited by new clothes-” Lindsey started.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Mikey interrupted her. Sometimes it made her feel embarrassed, how easily her happiness was won by new girl stuff, but she didn't need a pep talk from Lindsey every time. “Frank and Ray want me to go to this party next weekend,” she mentioned. Lindsey’s eyes narrowed. She really didn't like Michael’s friends. Neither did Michael, to be honest.

“Whose party is it?” She asked, still skeptical of the thing. She knew she wasn't one for parties, but if she did want to go, she wanted to be there with her, too, to keep her safe and sober. 

“I don't know. Probably Worm, he's the only one they'll tolerate enough to go a party thrown by him,” Mikey guessed, blending out her eyeshadow. She leaned back to check it out in the mirror she had placed near her phone. Feeling satisfied, she moved onto eyeliner and mascara.

“Are you gonna go? And is it this weekend or the weekend after?” Lindsey asked her, and Mikey didn't think she could sound any more like a mom if she tried. 

“I don't think so. And it's the weekend after this one.”

“You could go as Mikey.”

Mikey's eyes went wide and she stopped what she was doing. Could she..? No, definitely not, it would be too dangerous, and plus, Frank and Ray would be there and they would totally see her, and then she'd be outed to the whole school and there was no way Mikey would survive that.

She slowly shook her head as if Lindsey had just suggested that she go to the party naked. “Just an idea!” Lindsey squeaked apologetically. 

“Frank would see. He would know that it was me,” Mikey explained.

“I don't think he would, honestly, you look really different with all the makeup. And plus, Michael doesn't even have boobs, how could you be the same person?” 

“He would see,” Mikey repeated, shaking her head.

“Okay, okay! I was just thinking, if you wanted to-”

“I don't.”

“No, but if you wanted to… you know, show Mikey places that aren't just our bedrooms, you could. You could go shopping with me, and we could be two girls shopping together, or you could go to a show get be hit on by sweaty men, or you could, like, I don't know, tag along with Gerard to one of his stupid fucking D&D games and be introduced as his sister and not his brother.”

Mikey considered it. “I don’t know, Linds. I'm just… worried about my safety. You know how those people can be.”

“It’s your choice, Mikey. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“But what if I don’t know if I want to do it? How do I know if I can?” Mikey asked, looking at Lindsey’s face through the computer screen, her mascara wand motionless in her hand.

“I don’t think readiness in that context is a black-and-white thing. You’re not either ready or not ready. Sometimes you’re in the middle, or closer to some than the other,” Lindsey said. Mikey rolled her eyes. She knew Lindsey was right, but it wasn’t the answer Mikey wanted. It would be so simple if there was some surefire way of knowing, but obviously the easiest things weren’t always the truest things.

“Okay, then how do I tell where I am?” She said, playing along.

“Honestly? I think the fact that you considered it and didn't immediately say no shows that you're at least somewhat ready,” Lindsey answered.

Mikey groaned. It was tempting, really tempting, to show herself the world outside of the closet - the metaphorical one, obviously, because while she did spend a lot of time picking out her outfits, she also did get to spend time as herself, as Mikey, as a girl. That was the thing that convinced her that no, this wasn't a costume - the fact that she could act so much more naturally when she was wearing a full face of makeup and an intricate outfit than when she was being Michael and just wearing black skinny jeans and an Anthrax shirt.

“It looks… different,” Gerard had said the night she had first shown him an outfit she and Lindsey had put together. A month earlier, Gerard had found her in her room, wearing a dress “borrowed” from Lindsey’s closet. At the time, Mikey hadn’t even considered the fact that she may be trans, but after Gerard got over the initial shock, he asked her if that meant she wanted to be a girl all the time. Mikey wasn’t able to give a straight answer.

A month later, she was sure enough of herself that she was standing in her bedroom, showing Gerard what she looked like as a girl, and not as a boy in a dress. She told Lindsey, too, who was completely willing to give her some of her clothes she didn’t wear anymore. 

“Well, get used to it,” Mikey had said back to Gerard, only half seriously. “Gerard, it feels so much better like this, you have no idea. I know it looks dramatic and fake, but I’ve never felt as comfortable in my skin as I am right now.”

“I know. And I’m really happy for you, it looks great, but it's just… not what I expected when the person I thought was my brother turned out to actually be my sister, you know? It's nothing I would have expected from Michael,” Gerard explained. Although he was the one who was more aware of trans people initially, it was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that his sibling was one of them. Mikey had told him to be completely honest about his reaction, so she didn’t take any offense to his words. 

“I’m not Michael,” she had said so confidently, “I know we have this body in common, and we share a similar personality, but Michael… he’s a fictional character. He's not real. Mikey, with her makeup and skirts and everything - she's real. She's me. It's like, she’s the actress, and even though she has to pretend to be Michael all the time, she's still Mikey.”

That had been before she had realized how unsafe that comfortable, confident mentality would be for her. Though, in hindsight, maybe she didn't have to be so strict with that. She was still completely aware of how devastating it would be to come out at school, but was she not still Mikey when she was acting as Michael?

“You're right,” she admitted to Lindsey now. “I think I can do it. I want to just live as Mikey so bad, you don't even understand, Linds, it’s like I’m so close to being who I really want to be - though, minus the threat of facial hair and plus real boobs - and I just want to show off, like, this is the person I really was the whole time and no one even knew, you know?”

Lindsey nodded. “I get what you're saying. It's like finding out that you love punk and all you wanna do is go to a show and get fucked up but you’re, like, fourteen. Except it's with your entire identity.”

Mikey hummed in agreement. “I also kind of just want to meet people before they know me as Michael first. You and Gerard only got to see Mikey after you knew me as Michael for a long time, and I know you don't think of me as him, but it’s like your perception of me is influenced by your knowledge of him,” she said.

“Yeah, you can totally do that,” Lindsey assured her.

“Yeah,” Mikey repeated. “I'm not going to that party as Mikey, though. I'm definitely not ready for that.”

“That’s fine. It's a different thing when it's somewhere where you don't know anybody versus a party where people from school are everywhere,” Lindsey reassured her. “Where do you think you'll go?”

“Gerard’s D&D sounds cool,” Mikey considered. “He's invited me to go a few times but I’m always too busy. As long as he hasn't said anything about having a brother, I think I'll be fine. Plus, I haven't played in ages, I miss it.”

“Nerd,” Lindsey snorted. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Mikey retorted, blushing.

“Oh, and in bio, my friend was telling me about this soccer game? It’s apparently supposed to be actually good. It’s tomorrow after school, if you want to come!” Lindsey said. 

Mikey had rarely ever been to one of their school’s sports games. She liked watching football, but only professional leagues. His interest in the sport wildly decreased when the players were teenagers who didn't know what they were doing at all and just wanted to show off. But it wasn’t like she had anything better to do, and if Lindsey was suggesting it, it couldn’t be that bad.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll see if I can get a ride,” Mikey said as she opened her phone to text her parents. It sucked having to be driven around everywhere. There were times when she swore she didn’t need to learn how to drive just yet, but she’d be lying if it wasn’t tempting sometimes.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll drive you,” Lindsey offered. Lindsey, of course, was the mature, responsible type of kid who was able to get her license as soon as she was 17.

“Really? Awesome, thanks!” Mikey gave her a grin. 

She heard a noise from downstairs and turned around. It was probably Gerard coming home from class already. “Gee?”

“Hey, Mikes,” Gerard's voice called up. Mikey heard him drop his school bag on the floor. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Linds-” was all Mikey was able to get out, before Lindsey’s voice from her laptop’s speakers interrupted her.

“Gerard, you fucker, stop ignoring my texts! Or at least turn your receipts off so I don't know you've seen ‘em!” Lindsey yelled from the laptop. The stairs creaked as Gerard climbed up them.

“Sorry, I’ll get you those ten bucks by the end of the week, promise!” Gerard apologized.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” Lindsey scoffed. When Gerard came into Mikey’s room, Mikey looked at him to see if he would flinch at seeing her in makeup and everything, just after school. He didn't even bat an eye. She didn’t know what it would have meant if he had, but it was nice knowing that it didn’t matter to him what she was wearing.

“Gee, when are you and your Dungeons group getting together next?” Mikey asked him as he sat down next to her.

“Saturday, why?” He said.

“Um,” Mikey started. Now, the words were escaping her. She looked to Lindsey on her screen for help. Luckily, Lindsey seemed to get the message.

“Mikey wants to go somewhere as a girl and she wants to tag along with you to one of your lame D&D game nights,” Lindsey explained. Gerard nodded, ignoring Lindsey’s commentary on the coolness of Dungeons and Dragons.

“Yeah, that’ll probably work,” he said. “I just gotta let the others know, but it should be fine.”

“You haven't told any of them you have a brother, have you? Because I’d like to avoid the ‘actually, I’m not cis’ conversation at all costs, please,” Mikey said flatly.

“No, you should be fine. I mean, even if you did tell them, I’m sure they would all be fine with it. Most of us aren't straight, anyway,” Gerard said.

“I know, but I’d just like to go somewhere where the trans thing just isn't relevant and we can play some fuckin’ D&D,” Mikey said. Gerard nodded.

“Yeah, we can definitely do that,” he said. “I mean, like, most of the guys there like, never talk to girls, and not just ‘cause they’re gay. They won’t question it. We just finished our last campaign anyways, so we can start a new one right away.”

“Alright, I’m going to leave you two nerds to it,” Lindsey said from Mikey’s laptop. “I’ve gotta make myself some dinner.”

“Oh yeah, we should probably throw a pizza in the oven sooner or later,” Gerard commented, looking at Mikey.

“Bye!” Lindsey waved, then ended the Skype call. Mikey watched her face disappear from her screen, waving goodbye to her best friend. Then she turned to Gerard.

“So, pizza?”

 

-

“Mikey!” Lindsey yelled at him from her place at the bottom of the bleachers. It was about fifteen minutes before the game was supposed to start, though it was anybody’s guess when it would actually start. was nowhere in sight. “You made it!”

Michael smiled. “Of course I did. I told you I’d come, didn't I?” He said as he sat down next to her on the bleachers. So far, the only ones there were a couple of other students. Parents of the kids on the team would probably show up later.

“Still, I didn't know if you would chicken out or not,” she shrugged, looking out onto the sidelines, where the teams were warming up. 

“It’s just a soccer game,” said Michael. He wasn't offended that Lindsey had thought that he might not show up - he was kind of hard to make plans with since his parents switched feelings every second minute. Luckily, they were totally willing to let him watch the game after they found out that A: he was going to be getting a ride home, B: that it was from Lindsey (a girl, further reinforcing their hopes and expectations that he was attracted to girls) and C: that it was because he was watching a sports game. They often dropped not-so-subtle hints that he needed more ‘masculine hobbies’. Funnily enough, they never had that problem with Gerard and his art. Michael worried sometimes that they knew, but Gerard had assured him that they did the same thing to him when he was in high school. 

“True,” Lindsey agreed, pulling out her phone and checking the time. “Kitty said she'd be here in five.” Michael hummed, following her gaze to the sidelines. He recognized a couple of the jocks on the team from their school. He never really talked to any of them, but he knew their faces and some of their names. For the most part, they were the ones Frank and Ray hated with a burning passion for what seemed to just be their enthusiasm for soccer. Or maybe it was their popularity, too. Michael didn’t take note.

Now, though, the soccer players didn't seem to be such assholes. Sure, he knew a handful of them were pretty douchey, but their camaraderie as they smiled and high fived each other made Michael happy just watching them. He would never even think about joining a sports team, but he understood the appeal. It would be kind of like being in a band, working on something together with a group of people you (hopefully) like.

“Hey, Kitty!” Lindsey called out all of a sudden, snapping Michael out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Lindsey’s friend coming their way. She looked a lot like what he imagined Lindsey’s friends looked like: she had dark hair with bangs and she wore a DIY-ed bleached top and dark eye makeup. It was a nice style, it suited her. He waved at her awkwardly as Lindsey got up from her seat and hugged her.

Kitty sat down on Lindsey’s other side. “Kitty, this is my friend-”

“Hi, I’m Mikey,” Michael interrupted, giving a little wave. Lindsey didn’t seem to notice how he cut Lindsey off. He just wanted to try and see what it was like to go by the name he preferred, even if he probably wouldn’t be coming out to her or anything.

“Kitty,” she introduced herself, smiling at him.

“Oh, look, they're getting into position,” Lindsey said, tapping Michael’s knee.

“The forward for the other team is supposed to be their star player. He's the reason it's supposed to be a really heated match,” Kitty explained, pointing to the guy she was talking about. He was waving to the bleachers, winking at someone.

Michael turned to Kitty. “You know a lot about sports?”

“I have a couple of friends on the team,” she shrugged. “Don't really care for football or basketball or anything, but soccer is bearable.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, I like professional sports, but high school sports teams just seem… juvenile, in comparison.It’s more about the aesthetics of being on the team than actual passion for the sport.”

Before Kitty could articulate a response, a whistle was blown and the game started. Their heads immediately turned to watch the players race after the ball. 

Michael watched the game, trying to keep track of what was happening and cheering when their school scored a point, but he couldn’t help getting distracted in the less heated parts of the game. He started keeping track of the players, keeping an eye on the ones he recognized.

One of them, however, seemed to be the odd one out. He was a good player, but the other players didn’t cheer him nearly as much when he scored. What could this guy have done to not have them start shouting congratulations every time he scored? The kid was amazing, definitely one of the best players in the game, but he didn’t seem to be as close to the rest of them. 

It was entertaining, at least, seeing how they interacted with each other. Michael noticed when the guy - Wentz, his jersey said, number sixteen - rolled his eyes in annoyance as one of his teammates almost scored. Michael knew the guy was a dick, so he wasn’t surprised, but the Wentz kid seemed to really have something against him. Later on, though, the same jock slapped his ass when he lost the ball to a player from the other school’s team. It wasn’t a playful, casually homoerotic slap, either. It was taunting, Michael could see it in the guy’s face.

So maybe Wentz wasn’t the one who started it. That would be likely, considering what Michael knew about the bigger guy. He was one of the guys that made Michael thankful to be friends with Frank and Ray. 

When the break came, Michael turned to Lindsey. “Who’s the Wentz kid? Number Sixteen?”

Lindsey shook her head. “Don’t know”, she said, just as Kitty spoke up.

“He was my biology partner last term. Pete’s his name. He’s a really cool guy, we got to be pretty good friends. He loves soccer but the other guys on the team can be real dicks to him,” Kitty informed him. 

“Oh. That’s too bad,” Michael said in response. “He’s really good.”

“I know, right? The team doesn’t deserve him. I could introduce you after the game,” Kitty proposed.

“Yeah, that would be sweet,” Michael said. Then, Lindsey started a conversation about their English assignment or something and Michael tuned out. It had felt nice, being called Mikey by someone new. It would have been better to be able to go by Mikey in the context of being a girl, though. He couldn’t decide if it was actually worth calling himself Mikey all the time.

“I think they’re starting again,” Lindsey said, gesturing to the field, snapping Michael out of his thoughts eventually. Sure enough, the teams were starting again.

The second half was more interesting than the first half, maybe because he was keeping an eye on everything Pete did, every move he made. The other guys didn’t tend to pass to Pete very often, even when he was open.Michael didn’t understand why, Pete was an excellent player. When he did get the ball, he brought it all the way to the net and scored. Kitty stood up to cheer him and Pete flashed her a toothy smile before pulling his attention back to the game. His smile was so bright and friendly, Mikey couldn’t stop thinking about it for the next few minutes. 

Eventually, the game ended. Their school won, which seemed unimportant, but Kitty was excited about it, so Michael cheered along. The three of them got out of their seats and found a spot on the grass to chat while Kitty tried to find Pete. 

“Good game, huh?” said Lindsey, lighting a cigarette. Michael nodded.

“Not nearly as boring as I anticipated,” replied Michael. Lindsey elbowed him hard in the side. 

“We get it, you think high school sports are lame,” she mumbled, turning around to blow smoke somewhere Kitty wouldn’t breathe it in. Kitty shot Lindsey a quick smile of gratitude before going back to waving furiously at Pete. Michael turned around to see Pete finally notice Kitty trying to get his attention. He said something to the closest player, then started going over to where they were standing. 

As he got closer, Michael could see more detail on his face, along with the sweat adorning his hair and face. Sweaty guys were always kind of gross to Michael, but Pete still looked good. He ran his hand through his hair and Michael was almost certain he felt his stomach turn itself over.

“Glad you could make it!” He said, still catching his breath. 

“Yeah, me too,” she replied, “It was an awesome game. It would be such a shame to miss it.”

Pete nodded. “It was insane. We haven’t had a game that good since the beginning of the year.”

Kitty hummed, agreeing. “I brought some friends. This is Lindsey and Mikey,” she introduced them. Pete held his hand out to Lindsey, who shook it, and then to Michael. His grip was strong. Michael was glad Pete was still coming down from the high of the game and that he probably couldn’t notice how sweaty his palms were. 

“You did great out there,” Michael blurted out, just to have said something to him. It was hard not to be nervous around a guy who looked like that.

Pete seemed to appreciate the compliment. “Thanks, man,” he said. “I’m glad I was able to get a few goals in. The rest of my team don’t tend to be so cooperative.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Michael said casually, “In the most non-judgemental way possible, I’m pretty sure guys on a team are supposed to help each other. You know, sticking together and all that.”

Pete gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah, um. The really jock-y guys don’t- they don’t really like certain parts of me,” he said nervously. Michael was at least smart enough to catch on to what he was implying. Being out when you’re on your school’s sports team was a whole other level of difficulty. Jocks were far from the most tolerant kids in high school.

“I see. That must really suck,” Michael said, nodding in sympathy.

“Yeah, well. It’s all for the sport.”

Michael snorted. “I could never go through that. Especially not for anything having to do with sports.” As he said it, he realized how very true it was. He was hiding, closeted, behind Frank and Ray while Pete was out and proud, despite being on a team full of guys who Whatever Pete had to go through was probably twice as bad as what would happen if Mikey was outed. 

Pete shrugged. “It’s not that bad,” he said. “You just have to know how to avoid the shitty people and make friends with the nice ones. Though that’s kind of hard when the shitty ones are always fucking with you during the game. It’s alright though, really.”

“Mikey,” Lindsey tapped him on the shoulder then. Michael turned around. He had totally forgotten Lindsey and Kitty were there, he was so wrapped up in what Pete was saying. “We gotta go now, Kitty’s curfew is soon.”

“What? How is her curfew so early? It’s barely seven,” Michael argued. He needed more time to make a memorable impression on Pete. There was no way that he would go back to not knowing Pete was even there at school. Something about Pete was so attractive to him, he couldn’t let that go. 

“Her parents want her home early so she can finish the homework she didn’t do last week,” Lindsey explained. “She’s not even technically allowed to be here.” Then, she walked off to go catch up with Kitty, who had already left the spot they were talking at. Michael gave Pete an apologetic look before turning around to go with them. There was nothing he could do, Lindsey was his ride.

“Wait,” Pete said, taking Mikey’s wrist. “Can I get your number or something? You seem really chill,” he asked hesitantly.

Michael smiled, grateful Pete had made the move, because there was no way he would have had the guts to. “Sure,” he said as Pete took out his phone. Michael took it and typed in his number. He sent himself a message saying “hi, it’s mikey” with a winky face next to it. Maybe it was a bit too forward, but the wink could be written off as just playful and silly. He smiled and handed back the phone to Pete. 

“Bye for real now,” Pete laughed. Michael gave him a slight wave and a ‘Bye’ before he was catching up to Lindsey, who was already with Kitty outside of her car.

The drive back was a little bit uncomfortable, since Lindsey’s car was small and Michael was not, but the fact that there was a cute boy who played soccer and wanted his number was enough to make the cramp in his legs bearable. Lindsey and Kitty were chatting about some band or something, Michael wasn’t listening. He was busy thinking about Pete, and the way he smiled at Michael when it was just the two of them, talking to each other, the genuine interest in his face when Michael spoke. He squeezed his phone in his hand, trying to somehow force it to vibrate and tell him that Pete had texted him back, but the notification never came.

They dropped him off first, since he lived the closest. When he came home, his parents were standing at the dinner table. Gerard was probably down in his room.

“Hey, Michael,” his dad greeted him. “Did you have fun at the game?”

“Yeah,” Michael answered, noticing the salad bowl on the counter and bringing it over to the table, along with the dressings.

“That’s good. Did you meet any friends of Lindsey’s?” His dad said. He was clearly trying desperately to prove to himself that his son did have some interest in girls, which was funny, really. He imagined himself telling his dad about Pete, but obviously, there was no way he would be able to.

“Yeah, her friend Kitty was there,” Mikey said, refusing to elaborate. Luckily, his dad accepted his answer and nodded. 

“Okay, well, dinner’s ready. Why don’t you go get your brother?” His mom interrupted, opening the oven. Michael nodded and went downstairs to knock on Gerard’s door.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said.

“What is it?” Gerard asked from inside. 

“Casserole, I think?” Michael said, guessing from the smell in the house.

“Hell yeah,” he said, coming out from his room where he had been working on his school assignment. He was drawing this amazing dragon, Michael had seen it. He couldn’t wait for it to be finished. 

They ate dinner, constantly avoiding their parents’ attempts at anything other than simple small talk. Time just didn’t seem to pass quickly enough. By the time they finished, it was only a quarter to eight, so Michael excused himself to his room and closed the door behind him. He took out all of his girl clothes, all of her clothes, and laid them out, making sure to remember their respective hiding places. He sat on the floor and looked at them, taking inventory of every item. He probably had about two hundred dollars’ worth of clothing in front of him, and that wasn’t including the stuff that he could wear as everyday clothes for Michael. He put so much effort into her, into making her be as true to herself as possible. There was some part of him in both of them, Michael and Mikey, and yet Mikey required all of this makeup and clothes and bra stuffing and tucking. He was even thinking of getting a corset - but Gerard was worried for the possible health effects it could have on his body, so he had promised not to get one until he was sure he needed one.

And yet there he was, sitting in front of all of the things that she wore in order to be more “like herself”. But if she needed to do all of these things in order to be who she really was, was it really her?

It was then that someone conveniently knocked on his door. He quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts and hid all of his girl stuff. He was halfway done when there was another knock and a “Michael?” from the other side of the door. It was Gerard’s voice. He kicked the rest of the stuff out of the way and went to open the door. Most of her stuff was already hidden, and the rest just blended in with his clothes, so if anybody besides Gerard went to peek in, they wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

“Hey,” Gerard said when he opened the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just… thinking,” He replied.

“Okay,” Gerard said, eyeing the things on the floor. Michael followed his gaze to the bra sitting near the foot of his bed. Fuck, why hadn’t he thought to hide that first? It was clearly a bra, there was nothing else it could be mistaken for.

“Yeah, I was just cleaning my room. Organizing my stuff,” Michael explained. Gerard could tell that wasn’t the whole story, but Michael couldn’t explain what he was feeling at that moment. It was like the climax of all of the different things he had been feeling lately

“Okay. We’ll talk later,” Gerard said, the end of his lips quirking up a bit as he closed the door. Once it was shut, Michael let out a sigh. He really needed to talk to Gerard, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He needed to air these thoughts out, but it wasn’t the right time.

He spent the rest of the evening doing homework and trying to study, but he kept looking to his hiding places for his clothes, visualizing himself taking them out and putting them on. Somehow he resisted the temptation enough to complete his trigonometry homework, which had taken a lot of effort in order to concentrate.

He knew it was risky, but he couldn't hold her in anymore, couldn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. He usually got dressed and everything only after her parents were definitely asleep, but this really couldn’t wait. She couldn’t wait. She took off her shirt, making sure not to look in the mirror. She was sick of having this stupid flat chest all day. She put on the bra, stuffed it with tissues, put on her Dropkick Murphys shirt, and looked back in the mirror. A wave of relief washed over her. It wasn’t a perfect or permanent fix, but it would do. Better than having a boy’s chest, anyways. She took off her skinny jeans, putting a skirt on over her bare legs. She usually wore tights underneath, but putting on tights meant reminding herself of the definite _something_ between her legs. And tucking was definitely out of the question for that night, she couldn’t bear to even think about touching The Thing Between Her Legs. She looked at herself in the mirror again. The hair on her legs was starting to come in, she would need to wax them next time she was feeling up to it. Maybe Lindsey could help her if she wore shorts.

She put on some makeup quickly, not caring that her eyeliner wings weren’t as good as usual or that she had fallout from her eyeshadow that could be cleaned up. She needed to talk to Gerard. It was 11:12. Late enough that her parents were definitely asleep. She tiptoed to Gerard’s room and knocked lightly, since the door was closed. She heard some light tiptoeing from inside, then Gerard opened the door. She silently stepped inside, avoiding the mess of clothes on his floor and sitting on the bed as Gerard closed the door slowly.

“They’re probably asleep already,” she said. Gerard just shrugged. 

“You’re early. I didn’t want to wake them,” her brother responded. Mikey rolled her eyes. “So, what’s going on?” Gerard asked, sitting down next to her.

“A lot of things. Tonight’s not a good night for dysphoria,” she sighed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Gerard said genuinely. “There’s nothing I can do, is there?”

Mikey shook her head. Gerard always wanted to help but usually, there was nothing he could do. Mikey’s dysphoria would leave her alone from time to time, but then it would come back and wouldn’t leave unless it wanted to. “Letting me be your sister is help enough, Gee,” she told him. He smiled in return. “Let me tell you about this guy I met before we move on to the complicated gender shit, okay?”

“Ooh,” Gerard said. “At the soccer game? Is he, like, a hot jock?”

“He’s hot, really hot. But he’s not really a jock, he just plays soccer. Lindsey and Kitty and I were watching the game, which was actually pretty interesting, when I notice this guy who's really good, but the other players never pass him the ball. And also he’s really pretty. So I’m like, ‘that guy was hot’ to Linds and Kitty, only low key, because I don’t want to act like a fucking weirdo in front of Kitty, and Kitty says that she knows him. I think she said they had a class together. But anyways, after the game she introduces us. His name’s Pete. I chatted with Pete for a little bit, and he’s so fucking charming, it felt like I was melting. I think the rest of the team kind of bullies him for being gay or bi or whatever he is. When he mentioned how they don’t like him, he just gave me that look that’s like, ‘I’m talking about being queer but I don’t want to tell you that’s what I’m talking about because I don’t know if you’re cishet but if you’re not you’ll understand what I’m getting at’, you know? And he’s so fucking passionate about soccer, like damn, you have to be really fucking committed if you’re willing to tolerate homophobic jocks and physical activity,” Mikey said, smiling at the memory. 

“That’s awesome, Mikey,” Gerard said. “I’m glad at least something good happened to you today.”

“Oh fuck, Gee, you don’t even know the best part,” Mikey gushed. 

“What?”

“He asked for my number.”

Gerard made a sound that was a combination of a gasp of disbelief and a giggle of ‘my sibling got a boy’s number’. He had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from being too loud and waking their parents, so he took Mikey’s hand and squeezed it. Mikey laughed at her brother’s reaction.

“So, uh,” she said once Gerard had calmed down. “Meeting him got me thinking about being out at school. And then I got home and thought about how much time and effort I put into looking the way I do. And I was thinking about my gender and how it’s kind of a bit hypocritical if I’m so ready to defend other girls like me who don’t want to take hormones or even pass or look feminine from people who say that they’re not committing to being a girl, or whatever. And then in my own life, I only think of myself as a girl if my face is caked in makeup and I’m wearing clothes that I have Lindsey buy for me. Like, I’m a girl no matter what I look like. It’s not Mikey who’s the costume, after all, it’s Michael. I get up every morning and I have to pretend I’m a boy, I don’t dress up like a girl every night. I _am_ a girl all the time. I just get to look like the girl I really am at night.”

Gerard, who had been listening intently while she was talking, simply blinked at her when she was done. “Yeah, I thought you realized that already.”

Mikey nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t really… believe it. Till now,” she said, playing with her skirt. “Internalized transphobia is a bitch.”

“I bet,” Gerard said. “I think this is a good step, though, you know, towards accepting yourself. I kind of got the feeling that being in the closet at school wasn’t keeping you the happiest.”

“Yeah. So I guess I’m ready to stop pretending to think I’m a boy for good now,” Mikey said, letting out a breath at the end. “Feels liberating to say that.”

Gerard put his hand around Mikey’s shoulders, patting her back. Mikey rested her head on Gerard’s shoulder, looking at his Batman poster, thinking about going to school tomorrow and calling herself a girl in her head. She would have to let Lindsey know, too. She would be understanding, obviously, but it would probably be laced with “told you so” undertones and while Mikey really loved her, she didn’t really love that side of her.

“Hey, are you still down for DnD tomorrow night, right?” Gerard broke the silence. Mikey lifted her head off his shoulder. 

“Oh, that’s tomorrow? Yeah, I’ll be there,” Mikey said.

“Awesome,” Gerard grinned, looking at his sister. Mikey yawned, rubbing her eyes. When she looked back down at her hands, she saw that they were covered in her makeup.

“Oh fuck,” she looked at Gerard. “How bad’s my makeup?”

“Uh,” he said, “pretty smudged.”

“God damn it,” she cursed, looking at Gerard’s bedroom door. “Well, maybe I should go to bed early. I need to catch up on sleep anyways.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Gerard agreed. He was always in a state of conflict between wanting Mikey to have as much time to be herself as she wanted and wanting her to have as much sleep as she needed.

Mikey got off the bed and looked in Gerard’s mirror. Her eyeliner was severely smudged and the fallout from her eyeshadow had been rubbed into her skin. “Oh yeah, that is definitely not a great look,” she giggled. Then she turned back to Gerard, still on the bed. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

She made sure to close the door extra carefully, mostly just to annoy Gerard.

-

When she woke up the next morning and looked herself in the mirror, she could almost feel like she looked different. Even though her chest was still annoyingly flat and she was way too tall and she still had Ugly Man Hands, she looked a little more like herself. Although, she kept having to catch herself when she found herself slipping back into thinking of herself as a dude. Hopefully that would get easier as time went on.

Last night she had sent a plethora of texts to Lindsey after she had undressed and was laying in bed, talking about how she was fully committing to being female, all the time. Lindsey still hadn’t read them, though Mikey didn’t blame her. They were sent at a quarter past midnight and Lindsey wasn’t the biggest fan of staying up late on Fridays. Or waking up early on Saturdays.

Mikey and Gerard’s parents were already off at work, meaning that Mikey was allowed to dress however she wanted. The thought of spending almost an entire day looking the way she wanted was the only thing that got her out of bed before eleven A.M. She spent an extra amount of time picking her outfit, considering that she would be actually going outside her house later, and started on her makeup. She was halfway through doing her eyeliner when her phone’s notification sound went off. She finished her wing one-handed, which was a bad idea because she got eyeliner all over her lashes which made them stick together and feel gross, while she opened her phone. It was a text from Lindsey, which read _“omg babe im so proud of u!!!”_ , followed by half a dozen heart emojis. Mikey smiled to herself as she tried to clean some of the excess eyeliner off her lashes. 

-

The reaction from Gerard’s D&D group as they walked down into some friend of Gerard’s basement was something that Mikey had been stressing about, and yet most of them didn't even look up, focusing on configuring the playing space. The ones who did look up greeted Gerard, who waved and set down his and Mikey’s character sheets on the table. A guy with glasses and a baseball cap asked “is that everybody?”, to which a guy with a tattoo of the sun on his arm looked around the room and replied with a simple “yup.”

Gerard took the opportunity to introduce Mikey to the room. “Guys, this is my sister Mikey. We used to play together all the time as kids, so she's not a newbie by any means. She'll be playing a human cleric this time around, but hopefully I'll be able to drag her to more meetings. This is Jared, that's Will, that's Tim…” He went around the room, introducing each person. Mikey made sure to make eye contact with each one of them, knowing that she wanted to make a good first impression. She needed that validation, that as a girl, as herself, she was still a likeable person. The only people who had ever met this part of her were Gerard and Lindsey, who were people who would probably still like her no matter what. That still left room for doubt in her mind that at her core, maybe she wasn't believable. Maybe she just wasn't enough without having to pretend to be him.

As they started focusing on the game, introducing their characters and the details of the campaign, Mikey found herself slipping back into the calm, easygoing headspace she remembered adopting when she and Gerard would play with their friends in middle school. She could forget about any other problems and simply focus on becoming her character, only worrying about problems the group would run into. It was a nice distraction, something that she had forgotten about in her years of not playing. 

In her childhood, when she played, she would always insist on playing a female character. One time Gerard wanted to play in a genderless universe and he had it all planned out, but Mikey insisted on having her character's womanhood be relevant. It was her way of being able to safely express her gender as a kid, and she depended so much on it. 

Revisiting that feeling now, as someone who was starting to live more and more as a girl, becoming a woman, opened her eyes to how long she had wanted to be able to live like this. And her doubts had been dispelled by how well she was able to fit in with with the group, getting into character and cracking jokes in between battles. 

Maybe this could work. Maybe this could eventually be her whole life, being herself without the threat of being completely ostracized by humanity. This was what felt right. This was what made her feel like herself.

She couldn't believe she had ever felt any other way.

-

She spent the rest of her weekend napping and hanging out with Gerard. She didn’t get dressed up again, she was satisfied just remembering how well Saturday had gone. Gerard seemed happy that she was getting more sleep, too.

However, Gerard was not at all pleased when he was shaking his sister awake just as her school’s first bell should have been ringing. 

“Whuh?” Mikey said, trying to make sense of the face staring down at her, blurred by her sleepiness and lack of glasses.

“Get up, you're late for school!” Gerard urged. Mikey shot out of bed, stretching and looking at herself in the mirror. She was wearing her sweatpants and the Iron Maiden shirt she wore yesterday. Nothing she couldn't wear to school. “Mom and dad have already gone to work, I'll drive you. What can I make you for breakfast?” 

“Um, I dunno. Figure something out. I'll pack my bag,” she said. Gerard nodded and went back downstairs to the kitchen. Mikey grabbed up the books she needed for the day and threw them in her backpack before racing downstairs and kicking on her shoes. Gerard came in the entryway holding an apple in a paper towel and tossing it to his sister. They rushed out the door together.

“You know, this isn't what I meant when I said I thought you needed to sleep more,” Gerard said once they were out of the driveway. Mikey chuckled.

“What can I say, a girl needs her beauty sleep,” she retorted, looking out the window as the houses passed. Usually, her parents drove her to school, and she had to be cautious of how she acted. With Gerard, she could do whatever she wanted. “Do you not have class today?” She asked Gerard. 

“Not till one,” he replied. “You gonna get in trouble at school if you're late?” He turned to look at her as he asked.

“Eyes on the road, Gee,” she said, and Gerard obeyed. “I dunno. I have English first period, so fucking Grant might be pissed. He’s the one teacher who might actually give me detention if I’m late.”

Gerard hummed. “Man, high school fucking sucks. Not everyone has a simple enough life to even be able to follow all the stupid rules they give you. In college, they don't give a shit. Just cause you're late one time doesn't mean you don't respect your teachers, it just means you slept in or missed the bus or whatever. It's so stupid.”

“Trust me, I know,” Mikey agreed. “But hey, only two more years of this bullshit.”

But lo and behold, when Mikey walked into class only fifteen minutes late, Mr. Grant stopped talking to furrow his brows and glare at her. “Mr. Way, why are we late?”

“Sorry sir, I missed my alarm and-” Mikey started to explain.

“Showing up on time is your responsibility. It shows that you respect me, your fellow classmates, and our time, enough to not waste it,” Mr. Grant interrupted, and Mikey almost rolled her eyes at how perfectly it paralleled her earlier conversation with Gerard.

“I'm sorry, it was a one-time mistake sir,” she pleaded.

“Which is why your detention will only be for fifteen minutes. It's only October, Michael. Please try and do better. Take your seat,” he said, and Mikey could tell his word was final, so she only sighed and slid into her seat at the back of the classroom. Luckily, Frank and Ray were at the other side of the class and didn't have the opportunity to make fun of Mikey for how she pleaded with the teacher. By lunch, they would have forgotten about it and would be talking shit about somebody else. 

She was antsy for the rest of the class. She had never gotten a detention before, although she knew in great detail what it was like from speaking to Frank and Ray. Hers was only a recess detention, but theirs had been after-school, since they had skipped the more lenient punishments. Mikey couldn't imagine the logic behind that. Eventually, the school would find out they had missed the other detentions and they would inevitably have to stay for even longer. Was it not better to just take the fifteen minutes?

However, after first and second period, when she slipped into the detention hall, she wished she had skipped it. Because right there, sitting front and center, was Pete, the hot soccer player. Who hadn’t texted her back all weekend, for some reason.

Pete seemed to notice her presence, sitting up and making eye contact with her before raising an eyebrow questioningly. Mikey didn't know what he meant by that, so she just shrugged in response. Pete didn't seem mad, though, so she sat down next to him. A teacher sat at the front, her legs on the desk and a book between her hands. She didn't look like she was too invested in watching these teenagers. 

Pete leaned over, watching the teacher to see if she would notice. “What's up?” He whispered. Mikey tracked every movement of his lips, and again, just shrugged in response. “Are you… you didn't text, and I didn't text you either because I wasn't sure if you actually wanted to get to know me or if you actually just forgot.” He added, even quieter than before. His voice was soft and friendly, making Mikey’s heart skip a beat. The teacher never looked up as he spoke. 

“ _I_ gave _you_ my number. I was waiting for _you- oh_ , ” Mikey started, thinking back to after the game, how she was typing her number into Pete’s phone, her thumbs embarrassingly shaky. “I think I gave you the wrong number, actually. Did it end in 0209?” 

“Um, yeah, I think so,” Pete answered, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dammit,” Mikey laughed. “I got a new phone recently and I had to change my number. I must have accidentally mixed up my old number and my new one.” Okay, well, it wasn’t that recently, only a month or so ago. But still, that’s not a lot of time to memorize a whole new phone number, and her brain and her hands were not exactly at optimal levels of coordination in the moment. 

Unfortunately, their conversation ended there as the teacher looked up from her book and shushed them. Mikey was a terrible whisperer anyways, so she didn’t try to go unnoticed again, instead just mouthing ‘later’ to Pete. 

The rest of detention consisted of Mikey switching her gaze from Pete to the clock and back every ten seconds. Pete looked really nice in his blue jeans and t-shirt of some band that Mikey didn't recognize. Probably a local band. She wondered if he was friends with someone in the band. Or maybe he had a band of his own, and Pete was a total music scene wizard. He was tapping his fingers on the desk, occasionally looking at the clock or at Mikey. She wondered what he thought of her, now that he knew she was a total weirdo who couldn’t remember her phone number. He didn't seem mad, so she didn't have to worry all that much. But maybe he wouldn't want to see her anymore if he thought she was ignoring him all weekend. God, she felt so stupid for potentially blowing her one shot at getting a boy to like her. 

Finally, after being alone and bored with her thoughts for far too long, the bell rang, signalling the end of recess and thus the end of their detention. Mikey leaped out of her seat, trying to get out of the classroom as fast as possible. When she reached the doorway, somebody grabbed her arm and stopped her. She could tell without looking that it was Pete.

“Hey, so you still want to hang out, right?” He asked quickly. There wasn't much time to get to class before third period started. 

“Um, yeah, absolutely,” Mikey replied. “Here, I’ll give you my actual phone number.” She tried her best to seem as friendly and genuine as possible.

“Great. Uh, do you have plans this weekend?” Pete asked, getting out his phone. He passed it to her, a smile on his face letting her know there was no harm done.

“I might be going to a party Saturday, but I don't really know the person throwing it and I can honestly just miss it,” she said. She took the phone from Pete and tried to get her number in as quickly and correctly as possible. She double, triple, quadruple checked that it was right this time and passed it back to him. 

“Is that Worm’s? I was thinking of going, too,” Pete said. Mikey didn't know Pete was friends with Worm, although she guessed it made sense. Worm was from another school, but everybody seemed to be friends with him. Considering Pete's outgoing personality, they probably knew each other better than Mikey knew Worm. 

“So I'll see you there?” Mikey asked, anxious to get to class but also knowing she needed to get things sorted out with Pete if she was going to concentrate at all in class. She would probably be thinking about him no matter what, but at least this way, it’ll be less terrifyingly stressful.

“Yeah, totally. And I'll make sure to actually go and talk to you, okay? I know that at parties like Worm’s, it can be easy to just lose someone in the crowd, but I'll be sure to find you,” Pete assured her with a smile.

“And you have my number! It’s the right one this time, I promise,” Mikey said, reciprocating Pete's smile. “I gotta get to class, but I'll see you around, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Pete replied before heading off to his locker. 

Mikey let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in as she started to speed-walk to her own locker. She couldn’t believe how well that conversation went. Five months ago, there was no way she would have felt that relaxed around a boy she liked.

She grabbed her books from her locker and speed-walked to her physics class, unable to stop the smile on her face. 

-

When Mikey told Lindsey about the detention and the conversation with Pete during her lunch period, Lindsey first gave her a disapproving look and then congratulated Mikey on talking to a boy for once. 

“And I assume D&D went well, since I didn't get a single text about it either from you,” Lindsey said, squinting her eyes at Mikey. 

“Oh yeah! It went super well, everyone was so nice, it was great,” Mikey explained. “It was kind of tiring, though, so I had to kind of detach myself for the rest of the weekend. Sorry.”

“That's no problem, babe, I'm so proud of you!” Lindsey said, giving Mikey a hug. Mikey wasn't the biggest fan of hugs, so she just awkwardly patted Lindsey’s back until she stopped squeezing her.

At home, Gerard had a similar reaction, although he was much more relaxed. “I totally get what he was saying about parties, though. You better hold him to his word now, don't let him ignore you.”

“I think at this point, after I gave him the wrong phone number, if he wanted to ignore me, he could have easily done that,” Mikey said.

“Don't feel guilty about that. If he's really a good guy, he'll understand. People fuck up, it doesn’t mean they don’t care,” Gerard advised, leaning against the wall from where he was sitting on his bed.

“Yeah, I know,” Mikey sighed, “I just- I feel really good about this, you know? And I don't want to mess this up.”

“His feelings aren't your responsibility. If he's not into you anymore, that's on him. You don't have to change how you act so that he likes you. If he likes you, he'll like you no matter what,” Gerard said.

She got through the rest of the week begrudgingly, and finally the last bell rang on Friday and the week of daydreaming about Pete through all her classes was over. Mikey nearly ran to her parents’ car, wanting to get out of the school as fast as possible. 

“You know I'm going to a party tomorrow night, right?” She asked her mom as she threw in her school bag and buckled in her seatbelt. She realized she hadn't asked them yet. Hopefully they wouldn't mind.

“Really?” Her mom replied.

“Um. Yeah,” Mikey said. “I already told Lindsey I'd go,” she added. It wasn't necessarily a lie, but it implied that Lindsey was also coming, which wasn’t the case. 

Her mom sighed. “Yeah, sure you can go, just get your brother to clean his room beforehand. It’s like a minefield in there, I never know what I’ll step on. He’ll probably need your help to get it done,” she said as she pulled out of the school’s driveway. 

Of course she wasn’t off the hook just yet. And she knew how messy Gerard’s room was, it would probably take an entire afternoon to clean. 

As it turned out, though, cleaning Gerard’s room wasn’t that horrible. It was physically demanding and often times downright disgusting, but at least their parents let them play their music as loud as they wanted because they were doing chores and Gerard let Mikey rant to him about how nervous she was about the party with only minimal sarcastic commentary. 

“I know I have to tell him about… the trans thing. I don’t want to lead him on just to find out it’s a deal breaker for him, y’know? But I just don’t know how I’m gonna be able to do it and how he’ll react,” Mikey admitted as she shoveled the crap on Gerard’s floor into a garbage bag. Even though Gerard was playing Bauhaus at full volume on his radio and the door was closed, Mikey kept her voice down in case her parents were near.

“I mean, well, at a certain point, worrying about it isn’t going to do you any good,” Gerard replied from his own trash bag at the other end of the room. “I get that it probably seems like a super big thing right now, but you’re going to that party to have fun, too, you know?” 

Mikey stopped what she was doing to consider what Gerard had said for a second. She had to admit there was some grain of truth in what he said. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just feels like I have so much to be afraid of. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“But you will have after it’s over,” Gerard said, picking up a pile of scrap paper from near his desk and shoving it into his overflowing garbage bag. As he moves his arm to pick up the next pile, he knocked over an old glass of water onto the floor, spilling it on the clothes that were laying there. It made a loud sound, but luckily the floors in Gerard’s room were wooden and it didn’t shatter.

“Is everything alright?” Their mom called from downstairs.

“We’re fine, Mom,” Mikey said, smiling at Gerard’s clumsiness. Gerard laughed from across the room. He stared to mop it up using his duvet, which made Mikey giggle. “We’ve got it all covered.”

-

An hour before she had decided to show up at the party, Mikey stood in her bedroom, sitting and staring at her pile of boy clothes. Nothing seemed to fit how she wanted to look that night. She wished she could uncover all the girl clothes in her room and be picking what to wear from those clothes, but she knew she couldn’t. As soon as she walked in the front door, she would feel like she didn't belong. And then how would she talk to Pete? It was a ridiculous fantasy, but that didn't stop her from entertaining the thought. She wanted to look nice, it was a party after all, but it seemed like it was impossible with the choice of clothes she had in front of her. She really wasn't the kind of girl to obsess over this stuff, but it now seemed crucial. 

She had never done this before. She had never had any kind of flirty relationship with a guy before, she had never come out to someone who wasn’t Gerard or Lindsey, she had never felt such a need to impress somebody she liked before. It was completely uncharted territory, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

She was pulled out of her thoughts, however, when a thud came from Gerard’s room. A laugh soon followed, and Gerard’s voice called out, “I’m fine, just tripped over the lack of garbage on my floor!”

Mikey shook her head and turned back to her clothing drawers. Remembering what Gerard had said to her the previous night, she tried to imagine what he would do in this situation. She thought of how he presented sort of a nihilist point of view, how he suggested not to worry about things you can’t help. She looked back at the clothes on her floor. Pete would like her the same no matter what she wore. She snatched up a shirt and some jeans that didn’t clash and put them on. She looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look half bad.

With that over with, Mikey quickly threw on some subtle makeup, if nothing just to boost her confidence. When she finished, she found Gerard drawing in his room and told him she was ready to go.

“Y'know, eventually you’re going to have to get your driver’s license, young lady,” he said jokingly once they were in the car. “I don’t want to still have to drive you around everywhere when we’re thirty.”

“I promise you I’ll get my license as soon as it can have my name on it. My real name,” Mikey replied, and she meant it. It was just the idea of having yet another piece of identification with the wrong name on it felt wrong. And plus, she was a nervous high schooler. There was no way she’d even be a good driver.

Gerard finally pulled up at the address Mikey had plugged into Gerard’s phone. There were at least a dozen other cars parked around the house. Gerard knew this kind of party, he had been to a couple in his time at high school and they had never really turned out great for him the morning after. As she moved to get out, Gerard started speaking. “Hey, listen, don’t do anything you don’t want to, okay, kiddo? This night is for you to have fun,” he told her. “But also, like, stay away from the booze. It’s not good for you and it’s probably shit anyway.”

Mikey chuckled in response. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for the ride,” she said, getting out of the car and closing the door. She exhaled and tried to calm her nerves before going inside. Her palms were still sweating, but taking that moment to breathe had calmed her heart a little. Good enough.

She had no doubt that this was Worm’s house, since she had been there a couple times before and because of the cars parked outside, but some guy yelled from the front porch and asked if she was there for Worm’s party. He was leaning on the front door, holding a bottle in his hand and using the other to gesture at the guy he was talking to. Mikey gave a thumbs up in response, not trusting her voice around this guy. He stopped leaning on the door and opened it for her. Mikey muttered a ‘thanks’ as she passed through. 

The party itself hadn’t really started to get interesting yet, even though it had allegedly started an hour ago. This was normal, however, people didn’t really get off their seats and start dancing and drinking till 9, usually. There were plenty of people, but they were just casually chatting with one another over the music. Mikey scanned the room, and she recognized a few people, but nobody in particular seemed like she should talk to them. She regretted not asking Pete when he was planning on showing up. She went to the kitchen, though there were not too many people hanging out in there yet. She could have grabbed a beer, but Gerard was right, it was probably shit and she didn’t really want to be any kind of tipsy that night. Instead, she grabbed a glass and filled it with water so that she wouldn’t be heading back to the living room empty handed. When she got back to the living room and sat down near a group of people she vaguely recognized as cool, she was immediately patted on the back by Chester, someone she had spoken to maybe twice before at a party like this one. 

“Hey, Michael!” He said. “Woah, is that straight vodka, dude? Man, you’re hardcore as fuck!” Chester, obviously stoned off his ass already, proclaimed loudly. 

“Oh no, this is just water,” Mikey responded lamely. “Gotta stay hydrated.”

“Oh, hey, that’s true! Stay hydrated!” Chester laughed, the kind of laugh that went on for far too long. Nobody else sitting around them laughed, either, so it was slightly less awkwardly funny and more funnily awkward. Mikey wondered again when Pete would get there. “So what’s been going on with you, Way?”

How Chester knew Mikey’s last name, she had no idea, but she tried to be social and keep the conversation going. She started complaining about teachers, which got her some sympathy from those who had already graduated. Some kid who had gone to a private school dropped in and started ranting about how bullshit their experience was. Mikey was grateful for the distraction, so she she just sat back and listened. 

After about fifteen minutes of conversing with them, someone tapped Mikey on the shoulder. She turned around, and let out a sign of relief when Pete’s face greeted her. “Oh, hi,” she said, turning to face him more. 

“And you thought I was going to be the one ignoring you!” Pete replied, showing his toothy smile that made the butterflies in Mikey’s stomach reappear.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t see you come in,” she said, blushing. “I just didn’t know when you were going to show up.”

“It doesn’t matter, it all worked out in the end,” Pete let her know. “Is it okay if I steal Michael away?” He addressed the group of Mikey’s acquaintances, some of whom nodded in response. Mikey muttered a ‘have fun’ in their direction as Pete brought her into the kitchen.

“It’s more quiet here, at least it will be for now,” Pete explained. In the light, Mikey noticed that he was wearing a well-worn Ride The Lightning shirt, which she thought was endearing. She could tell he was wearing makeup, too, which made her feel more at ease, somehow. “You look nice tonight. Do you want a drink or anything?”

“No thanks, I’m not drinking. And I got water earlier, so I’m all set,” Mikey admitted, not addressing the compliment for fear of giving away how it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“Oh, thank God, neither am I. I haven’t been able to even look at alcohol without gagging ever since Gabe’s party last summer,” Pete confessed, cringing at the memory. Mikey gave him a sympathy cringe as well. “So how come I never see you around at school? I feel like I should have noticed you by now,” He asked after Mikey took a sip of her water. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She totally felt the same way, cute boys who play soccer and listen to Metallica should have been easy to spot in her school. 

“Um,” Mikey started, swallowing. “I don’t tend to hang out with seniors much.” She knew it was lame, but it summed up all she really wanted to reveal at that point.

Pete furrowed his eyebrows. “But you were at the game with Lindsey and Kitty.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I phrased that badly. I hang out with a certain type of senior. I only hang out with seniors I like. The kids in my own grade who I talk to aren’t the best kind of people,” Mikey admitted.

“You’re not really friends, then, if you don’t think they’re good people,” Pete pointed out. Mikey shrugged. She knew what he was getting at, and she actually agreed, but most people didn’t pay as much attention to what she said as he did. Around most people, they wouldn’t care if she had said ‘friend’ or not. “Can I ask why you don’t like them?”

“Well, they’re Frank Iero and Ray Toro, that’s all,” Mikey said. 

Pete’s eyes widened. “Really?” He said incredulously. “Why? How?” He seemed to be curious more than offended at this discovery, which put Mikey at ease. She licked her lips before answering.

“Yeah, I wish I didn’t have to, but if I didn’t, I’d have a lot of people at this school trying to fuck with me. If I make friends - sorry, if I _hang out with_ the people at the top of the food chain, they can’t touch me,” Mikey explained. 

“But you don’t have to,” Pete said. “I mean, you can do whatever you want, but in my mind, I’d rather take whatever they throw at me instead of conforming to their standards. You’re supposed to use your last chance at freedom before college or work or family starts becoming a factor to do what you really want to do.”

“High school is just too toxic for me to do that, I think,” Mikey argued. “I’m not actually free. Everyone’s always putting their own expectations onto me. Once I graduate, then I’ll be free. And I guess that I’m kind of letting them do that, but it’s easier to just do what they want, rather than jeopardize my chance to live by my own rules.”

“I guess I see your point,” Pete said. “I think we just have similar issues but different surroundings.”

“I like that,” Mikey said sincerely. “I like hearing your perspective. It makes me feel like I don’t have to pretend anything.”

“I like that too,” Pete repeated. There was a silence, in which they just looked at each other, studying each other’s facial expressions. Mikey saw the sincerity in his eyes. You would never guess that a boy his age would be so wise, and yet, Mikey felt like she had learned something very important from their short conversation.

“I feel like we're kind of doing this backwards,” Mikey realized, saying it out loud as soon as she thought it. Pete furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we're skipping the surface stuff and going right into the deep shit. I mean, I don't mind, but I would kind of like to know who you are a little more,” Mikey explained. 

“What do you want to know?” Pete asked her, tilting his head to the side.

“I don't know. Like, what do you like to do, besides soccer? What do you hate? Who are you, other than a cute soccer player?” Mikey said, confident enough to return his hinting advances now.

“Okay, I see what you mean,” he sighed. “Let's see. I like music a lot. I've been trying to get a band together but I can’t find a fucking drummer for the life of me. I wish I could sneak into hardcore shows downtown but I can't get a good enough fake ID and none of the good bands will play all-ages shows. I also really like dogs. My dog, Laura, she's like my best friend. Her and my mom. My mom and I haven’t always understood each other but she really works hard to give me the best life she can and I’m really grateful for that. I’m not really good at anything else in school than soccer, so I really don’t know what I’ll do after high school. Nothing really appeals to me, but my mom thinks that if I don’t go, I’ll be throwing my future away. There’s just nothing really that I want to do and that I’m good at.”

“I think you’re smart enough to be able to do a lot of stuff,” Mikey said. “College nowadays is expensive as hell for what you get anyways.”

“Yeah, I know, but I also want to do something that I care about and other than music and soccer, I really don’t have anything. And those are barely profitable unless you’re lucky,” Pete explained. “What about you?”

“Oh, um,” Mikey said, unsure of what exactly to talk about. She felt so enamoured by what Pete was saying that she had no time to think of what she should say back. 

“Excuse me,” someone said from behind her. She looked around and realized she was leaning on the fridge. She muttered a ‘sorry’ as she backed away so the guy could grab a drink. Suddenly, a group of five or six guys came into the kitchen, looking for drinks too. Mikey met Pete’s gaze. 

“It’ll only get more and more full in here,” he said to her over the sound of the guys yelling to each other. “Maybe we should go back to the living room or something?” Mikey nodded in response, and together they shifted past the already forming crowd in the kitchen into the living room.

Unfortunately, the living room was just as densely populated as the kitchen was becoming. Pete chuckled. “I don’t know why I thought this would be any better,” he admitted.

Mikey shrugged. “This way, we get to watch people try and dance and make fun of them.”

“That’s true,” Pete said, grinning. “Although if you saw me dance you’d probably be laughing at me too. I have two left feet whenever I’m not running.”

“No, I wouldn’t laugh at you because you wouldn't look like you’re trying too hard when you dance. These guys actually think they’re hot shit when they’re not,” Mikey reassured him.

“I’m not sure whether or not I should trust you on that one,” Pete said. 

“Why would I lie to you?” Mikey asked him. “See, there’s no way you would look anywhere near half as douchey as that guy,” she gestured to a guy on the dance floor who was trying to impress some girl by doing the worm and instead flopping repeatedly on the ground. She looked embarrassingly unimpressed with his efforts. Mikey continued watching as some other dude came up to her to try his shot at winning her attention and nearly froze when she realized it was Frank. She turned to Pete. “Did you know Frank was going to be here?” She asked, trying to keep calm.

Pete looked back at her. “I thought you knew. I mean, it's pretty much a given that at any party, they'll be harassing girls and trying to get laid.”

“Oh my god, I totally forgot,” she said, remembering how she had heard about the party from them. “How could I forget?” She put her hands in her hair, trying to figure out what to do. She put them back down again when she realized it just made her more noticeable.

“Okay, well, we could check back to see if there’s any room in the kitchen? I assume you’d like to avoid him,” Pete proposed.

“Yeah, fine,” Mikey agreed, though knowing they probably wouldn’t have much luck. 

In fact, the kitchen was even busier than when they left it. The fridge was pretty much permanently open from how much people were sticking things in and taking things out of it.

“Does Worm not own any coolers? I feel bad for his electricity bill,” Pete joked. Mikey acknowledged his joke with a chuckle.

“At least he can’t see us here?” Mikey said about the room after being pushed aside by somebody leaving the kitchen. She really did want to hang out with Pete, but if Frank saw them he’d ask questions and there was only so much Mikey was able to cover for. 

“I’m not really supposed to do this, but I’m friends with Worm’s brother and he’s away at college right now, so his room is free. And people won’t be getting up to anything in there, it’s too early and there’s nothing left in there but bookshelves,” Pete offered. 

“Really?” Mikey said. “I mean, will you get in trouble?”

“No, no, not really. They mostly just don’t want anyone fucking in there, so as long as we don’t, we’re fine. I mean, not that… you know,” Pete trailed off. 

“I know,” Mikey interrupted. She glanced around the room one more time, making sure that nobody they knew saw them, and said, “Lead the way.”

Pete took her hand so they could move through the flow of people together. Really, it probably wasn’t necessary, but Mikey would be lying if it didn’t feel nice to have her constantly cold, bony hands warmed by his, soft and gentle, but still confident. He kept their hands attached as they climbed the stairs, even though there was absolutely no one around they needed to dodge and if somebody actually saw them, they would definitely assume they were going upstairs to fuck. Mikey didn’t care. It felt nice. 

The room was, as promised, only furnished by bookshelves full of children’s books and toys, lined up against one wall. Presumably it was the stuff the family wasn’t ready to throw out yet and wanted to hang onto for a little longer for the sentimental value. Mikey was very familiar with those types of items, since she had just spent hours throwing piles and piles of it out of Gerard’s room. Pete sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Mikey sat down facing him, crossing her legs. 

“So,” Pete said, resting his face on the tops of his knees. He didn’t elaborate.

“So,” Mikey repeated.

“I never got to hear about you. You never answered my question earlier,” Pete explained.

“Oh,” Mikey said. “Well, what do you want to know?’

Pete shrugged. “I dunno. The same stuff I told you. It’s only fair.”

Mikey sighed. “Okay, well. I have no idea where I’m going after high school, either. Probably something like English lit. I’m good at it and I at least think it’s sort of interesting. I love music too but I can't play the guitar for the life of me. My parents are both really shitty but I have a brother, his name’s Gerard. He’s two years older than me and he’s really good at art. He’s super smart, too. I feel like I can count on him for anything, you know?” As she spoke, Pete listened closely, nodding at her words. Her stomach tightened up as she watched him. She knew she had to tell him now. Come to think of it, this whole time she had been basically setting up the conversation to lead to this moment. And now it was time to tell him. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“That’s good, that you can rely on him like that,” Pete’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “And at least you’re kind of sure about what you want to do. You’ve still got another year or so to decide, really, so you’re in no rush. And who knows, maybe an opportunity will arise for you to do something that you really love.” Mikey tried to listen to what he was saying, but she could barely hear him over her need to say what she needed to say.

“Pete, there’s something else you need to know about me,” she blurted out, and maybe it was a bit rude, but she just couldn’t bring herself to think of anything else. “And I need you to stay quiet until I’m done because I have no idea what I’m about to say and I want to be able to finish my thoughts.” 

Pete nodded, a silent agreement. He had the same empathetic look from before. Mikey looked down at her hands, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to talk and maintain eye contact. “I’m telling you this because I really, really like you, and if it’s a problem I want to know sooner rather than later. Gerard and Lindsey are the only people who know right now, but that’s because I spent too long trying to repress this, and I want to start living the way that’ll make me happy. Like you do. Cause I’m very sure that this is what I need to do right now.” 

She looked back up at Pete, who seemed a little nervous, too. She took it as a good sign. It meant he cared. “Unless I’m reading this entirely wrong, we have something here. And-” Her throat went dry. She coughed once to clear it. “I’m transgender. I’m a girl. And I don’t know if you like girls, but I don’t want to be your boyfriend. And, like, it’s okay if you don’t like girls, don’t get me wrong, it just means that this, whatever it is, can’t continue. I can’t pretend that I’m not a girl. So either you accept that I am and you’re okay with it, or… or we stop doing this. I just- I need to stop doing what’s easiest and start doing what’s best for me.” She finished and looked back at Pete, whose expression she couldn’t decipher. “And I’m done now,” she added awkwardly.

“Okay,” Pete laughed. “Um. So, yeah. If you say you’re a girl then I’ll address you as one, no problem. And I’m so sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable ‘cause I assumed you were a guy. I know that I had no way of knowing but I hate the idea of hurting you, no matter how unintentionally. I know what it’s like to have everyone assume things about you.” She gave him a half smile, partly out of sympathy, partly out of thankfulness that he was taking it so well. “I’m bisexual, by the way. I’ve been out as bi for, like, three years. I think you’re just as smart and funny and cute as a girl as when I thought you were a guy,” Pete went on, and the feeling of relief combined with the fluttery feeling from the compliment turned Mikey’s half smile to a full-on, toothy smile. She couldn’t remember the last time everything had felt so right. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and looked down. “Um. So what do I call you now? Do you have a different name, or..?”

“Oh! Um, yeah. I like Mikey. And, um. My pronouns are she and her,” she responded. She felt a bit stupid for not including that in her massive speech but the fact that Pete had thought to ask made her happy. She was so glad that _this_ was the guy who had grabbed her attention, that _he_ was the one she was crushing so hard on. You couldn’t pick who caught your eye, but even if she could have, she still would have chosen Pete. 

“That’s nice. It suits you,” Pete told her. He was right, it did suit her. “So do you want to talk more about it or talk about something else now? I mean, now that I know, I’d like to know what that’s been like for you. But if you want to save that for later that’s perfectly fine. We can talk about something else.”

“No, I can talk about it now,” Mikey said. Now that she had gotten started, she wanted to keep going. It felt important that he get to know that side of her. “So I’ve known for about a year now. When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a girl. I didn’t necessarily like girly things all the time, but I just related to girls more. My parents were totally freaked out by it though, so I started repressing those feelings. Then my brother came out to me as gay when I was in middle school. Our parents raised us to think that it was wrong, being gay or trans or whatever. But when Gerard told me he liked guys, I thought it was so unfair how he should be treated any differently than anybody else. And then at the beginning of last year, I started dressing up as a girl, every night once I thought everyone in my house was asleep. When I would sleep over at Lindsey’s, I would find a dress she didn’t wear often and take it home with me. And then one night, Gerard walked in on me. I was so scared he was going to, like, call the cops or something, but we just talked about it. I hadn’t really thought about what it meant, I just felt some uncontrollable urge to dress like a girl sometimes. And then I told him all about it and he was like, ‘You’re trans, dumbass!’” Pete laughed at that. Mikey smiled at the memory. “And then after that I told Lindsey. She let me keep the dresses, by the way. And now, every night, after our parents go to bed, Gerard and I hang out and I get to dress how I want. And it took a while for me to realize that, even in the daytime, I’m still a girl. But eventually I figured it out and now we’re having this conversation.” 

“Is it weird that I’m proud of how far you’ve come even though I’ve only known you for a week?” Pete asked quietly and intimately. Mikey moved her face closer to his to hear what he was saying, and the proximity sparked some kind of electricity that was coursing through her veins. “Because I can’t imagine how much strength that would have taken. My mom was always super liberal and wanted me to be who I want to be, and it still took so much time before I admitted that I’m bi.”

“Yeah, well, having Gerard around made it a hundred times easier. I’m serious when I say I don’t know what I’d do without him,” Mikey responded, her voice getting quiet too. She noticed Pete moving even closer than they were before, seeing how much he could get away with. The game they played tightened something within Mikey’s gut. In theory, any thought of doing something like this with a guy always had her panicking, but she knew she was in control of the situation. She could back away at any moment and Pete would let her. But she didn’t. Instead, she leaned a fraction of an inch closer. She wondered how long they could keep this up, who would break first. 

“We should hang out when you’re dressed how you like. When you’re ready, I mean. I want to see you,” Pete managed to say, his sweet tone making Mikey’s heart melt even more. 

“Yeah,” Mikey said. “I think I’d like that.” She could feel and see Pete’s smile in her peripheral vision, warm and inviting. He was irresistible. “Can I kiss you? By any chance?” She added, finally giving in to the urge she had been teasing all night long. 

“Of course,” Pete answered her, and then he leaned forward the final inch and attached their lips. He was gentle, the kind of gentle that made Mikey’s heart kick hard in her chest. His lips were soft and warm. His hand cupped Mikey’s face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She kissed him deeper, sliding her lips on top of his. Her hand fell onto his thigh. It wasn’t long before she was accommodating his tongue into her mouth, but he still kissed her slowly and carefully. He tasted like honey. She pushed him so that his back was against the wall and she was leaning in to his mouth. 

Eventually, they had to break away because Pete wouldn’t stop smiling. Mikey bit her lip as she examined his expression. He was breathing a little heavier than he was before, his lips looking more red. He looked a little dazed and just as happy as she felt in that moment. 

“I really like you, Mikey Way,” Pete said. He took her hand in his. “This is the best party I’ve ever been too and I haven’t even participated in much of it.”

Mikey smiled. “Same here,” she said. “I’m so glad this worked out, in the end. I was so afraid it wouldn’t.”

Pete brought their joined hands up to his face and kissed the back of her hand in response. “The hard part’s over now, really. I have a good feeling about where this is going to lead.”

Mikey squeezed his hand, smiling. “Me too.”

-

“I’m almost ready, I swear!” Mikey called from the bathroom. “Fuck,” she added as she accidentally brushed her cheek with her mascara wand. A dash of black had appeared under her eye. She had already done her foundation and concealer, so she couldn’t just wipe it off. She got out her concealer and corrected it, not caring that it had kind of fucked up her blending.

“It’s alright, take your time!” Pete called back at her from where he was waiting patiently on her bed, examining the posters on her wall. It had been two weeks since the party, two weeks of flirty texts sent from unsupervised classrooms and walking around the school during lunchtime. Rumors were starting to circulate in school that they were together, though barely anyone actually believed them. If anyone asked them, they had agreed not to confirm or deny. They weren’t ashamed, but for Mikey’s safety, they needed to leave some room for plausible deniability.

“Okay, I’m deciding that this is good enough,” Mikey said once she (sort of) covered the mascara accident. “Are you ready?”

“Yup,” Pete replied. He sat up on the bed, his eyes now glued to the door. Mikey took a deep breath and opened it. She was wearing her new dress, the cherry-coloured one she had her eye on for two months before Lindsey finally caved and pitched in to buy it for her. It was a bit more formal than she ever had use for, but she really liked the way it looked on her. She had paired it with some black knee-high socks and actual cherry-shaped earrings. 

“I don’t usually wear this much makeup, but I wanted to show as much as I could,” she explained as she walked shyly over to him. She knew she should be walking the way she had been practicing, with her hips moving and her feet falling gracefully, but it didn’t seem to fit the occasion.

Pete smiled, crossing his arms over his chest, taking in the sight. A slow smile crept across his face. “Oh my god,” he said incredulously. “I can’t- you look so good!”

“Really?” Mikey said.

“Yes! I mean, I love the way you look when you’re just at school but this- it’s like a visual representation of who you are to me. Like, I can really tell that this is you, that you chose what you wanted to look like,” Pete elaborated. “I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

Mikey smiled slightly at him. “Thanks,” she said. “There are still some things I want to work on but… I like this. This is nice.”

“Yeah!” Pete agreed enthusiastically. “Now come sit with me.” He shuffled over and patted the spot next to him. Mikey sat down, making sure to hold down the back of her dress, and took his hand in hers. She gazed upwards at her ceiling.

“I think you should be my boyfriend,” she mumbled happily. A month ago she would have never been able to be that forward with anyone, but it felt natural when she said it. Sure, some of it was because of that relaxed-yet-excited feeling being around Pete gave her, but she also felt like she had grown so much recently. The way she saw her identity had completely changed. She was still the same person, sure, but saying the way she felt had never felt so easy before then.

“I think you should be my girlfriend,” Pete said, agreeing with her. She turned her head back to face him. He was grinning at her mischievously. She squeezed his hand. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He leaned in for a kiss. “You’re the prettiest girlfriend I ever could have wished for,” he mumbled against her lips when they pulled apart, their foreheads still attached. 

“You’re the nicest boyfriend I could have ever wished for,” Mikey replied to him. She kissed him again, and pushed him back so he was lying on the bed with her on top of him. He put his hand on her waist. “And you’re kinda pretty, too.”

“Thanks,” Pete said. “I like it when you’re like this. You’re a lot happier,” he observed, reaching up to rustle her hair playfully. 

She sighed wistfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong.” She sat up to adjust her hair, letting Pete’s hand fall from her waist. “I wish I could be like this all the time. One day, I will. I know I will. It just takes practice, kind of. And I’m already getting better now. ” It was true. She hadn’t eaten lunch with Frank and Ray all week and she played Dungeons & Dragons with Gerard’s group again last Sunday. She was eliminating the sources of negativity in her life and replacing them with things that made her happy. It felt so satisfying to finally be able to do that, and she knew it would only continue to get better. 

“I know,” Pete said. He had propped himself up on his elbows to talk to her. “You just deserve to be like this all the time.”

“Whatever. The future can wait. Right now, I have a cute boy in my room and I kind of want to kiss him until his lips turn red,” Mikey grinned at Pete, who returned it with a huge, Pete-like smile. His smile was still her favourite thing in the world. She didn’t think she would ever get over how happy he looked when he smiled around her. 

“That can be arranged,” Pete said as he sat up and kissed his girlfriend, smiling the whole time. He took Mikey’s hand and squeezed it, a reassurance that everything would eventually turn out okay.

She believed him.


End file.
